


Being Human

by GlassRoom



Series: Dean and Cas [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean doing his best, Helpful Sam, M/M, recovering Cas, slight canon divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5896756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassRoom/pseuds/GlassRoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel needs to learn to adjust to eating again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being Human

**Author's Note:**

> No smut, just hints of yum. Next chapter will have the good stuff.

Dean slept fitfully, waking slightly every time Cas moved, drifting off again when he settled down. He took comfort in knowing Sam was close by while also giving them some space. As much as he liked packing the car up with supplies for a hunt, there was nowhere he'd rather be than wrapped around Cas.

A mumble pulled Dean into reality instantly. This one sounded different than Cas' previous whimpers. “Cas? Cas, how are you doing?” Dean asked as soon as he saw Cas was awake.

“Mouth tastes horrible.” Cas' face was twisted in a grimace as he reached for the water bottle on the floor next to the couch. He started to sit up so Dean launched himself up first in order to provide support for Cas' weakened state. Cas got himself upright much more slowly, and with a lot of leaning on Dean. Once the laborious task of sitting was accomplished, Cas tackled trying to open the water bottle. 

“Here, let me,” Dean said softly, taking the bottle from Cas who offered no resistance. Uncapping it easily, he handed it back and watched Cas practically pour it down his throat. “Whoa go easy there.”

Cas didn't seem to hear him, just sucked back the water like it was drawn from God's personal pond. The look of satiety was interrupted by a huge cramp that rocked him against Dean. He cried out clutching his stomach with one hand and crushing the bottle with the other.

Dean stiffened and prepared for Cas to eject the water. When that didn't happen he held Cas as close as he could, rocking him gently as the cramps wore down.

“Stomach is working now. I think. I feel hungry again. And thirsty.” Cas shuddered out a breath. “Really want to brush my teeth.” He made no move to get up. Instead he took a few steadying breaths while allowing himself to be rocked.

”Do you need my help getting to the bathroom?” He felt Cas nod so he got up and helped Cas to his feet, dropping the blanket in the process. Dean kicked it out of the way rather than bend down and pick it up. He took the squished bottle from Cas and dropped it near the blanket, intending to clean up later. Cas stumbled a bit for the first few steps before getting a slow walking rhythm going. Dean matched his pace, arm around Cas' waist for stability. Eventually they made it to their destination. 

“How can I possibly have to urinate again?” Cas practically whined, going towards a stall. Dean huffed out a small laugh as he, too, selected a stall to do his business. 

“Hey Cas, you have a toothbrush?” Dean asked over the flush of the toilet. He exited his stall and washed his hands.

“No.” Cas emerged after flushing. He leaned up against the stall entrance, gauging the distance to the sink. Dean's gut twisted at the pained expression on Cas' face. 

“C'mon.” He went over to him and held out an arm for Cas to lean into for the walk to the sink. “I think Sam always has extras in the cabinet.” Dean made sure Cas was steady on his feet before rifling through the cabinet. “Found some. Here, remember that yours is the blue one,” Dean unwrapped it and handed it to Cas. “You can put it with ours when you're done.” Dean indicated the holder with a small wave.

Cas cleaned himself up slowly and thoroughly, pausing occasionally like it was almost too much effort. Dean remained by his side, a hand on him at all times, ready to catch him if he fell. A small eternity later, Cas looked like he felt a bit better.

“So you're hungry?” Cas nodded. “To the kitchen then. Get some food in you.” Finally, something Dean could absolutely do well; cook something. He ran over his options as he guided Cas to the kitchen. They eventually got there and saw Sam picking through the fridge.

“You're up! How are you feeling Cas?” Sam asked while closing the fridge and looking him over.

“Better, thank you. Hungry.” Cas let himself be lowered into a seat by Dean. 

“Good. How about you, Dean? How're you doing?” Concern knitting up his brow.

“Fine. I'm fine. I'm gonna make chicken noodle soup and sandwiches. You want any Sam?” Dean rummaged through the cupboards for ingredients.

“Hell yes.” Sam grabbed a water bottle for Cas, who drank from it greedily. “Beer?” he asked Dean's back.

“Hell yes.” Dean turned in time to catch the one Sam tossed. He downed a good third in one long gulp. “Hits the spot,” he confessed, turning back to his cooking. Before long he was humming tunelessly, lost in the soothing repetition.

Sam sat down opposite Cas with a second water bottle. Cas reached for it but Sam held it away. “Let your stomach deal with the water already in there first.” Reluctantly, Cas pulled back and settled in to watch Dean. Affection radiated from him as he tracked Dean's movements. It was clear how much Dean enjoyed cooking, everything from filling a pot with chicken stock to cutting carrots into tiny pieces to buttering bread. 

It delighted Sam that both Cas and Dean seemed better. Cas had a little colour back in his face and Dean's back was straighter. “Smells fantastic,” Sam said just before a loud rumble came from Cas' belly. 

Cas commented that maybe he was hungrier than the thought. “Is it almost ready?” Cas' eyes were pleading. 

Dean cut the last row of sandwiches in halves. “Yeah it's done. Sammy you wanna fill some bowls?” Sam grumbled a bit but there was no real feeling in it. He portioned out the soup while Dean loaded the serving plate with a mountain of sandwich triangles. Sam turned back to the table in time to see Castiel drain the second water bottle. 

Sighing, he retrieved another water for Cas. “Eat slowly.” Sam ordered Cas as he set a bowl and water down in front of him. “And it's hot, so blow on each spoonful or you'll burn your mouth.”

Sam barely had the bowl touching the table before Cas had his spoon in it. He tested the soup with his tongue and found that Sam was right, it was hot. With a grumble of frustration he blew on the spoonful. 

Dean put the platter of sandwiches on the table before downing the rest of his beer. “Too hot for you, Cas?” Dean asked with amusement. He grabbed a couple of ice cubes from the freezer and plopped them into the soup. “That should cool it a bit for you.” Dean felt his chest lighten up at the sight of Cas holding a half eaten sandwich in one hand and frantically stirring the soup with the other. 

The three of them fell into a silence as they ate. Sam and Dean watched Cas closely as he drained his soup and reached for yet another sandwich. “Cas, how about that's the last one?” Sam suggested. Cas pulled a sullen face but didn't take any more.

“Hey Cas, you gonna eat those?” Dean looked pointedly at the pile of crusts beside the empty bowl. 

“I like the soft part of the bread better.” Cas added one more to the pile with a yawn. “I think I need another nap.” He stood up and stretched out slowly, his shirt riding up a bit to expose the tops of his hips. 

Dean couldn't move his eyes away from the little strip of skin between the pants and the shirt. He licked his lips and tried to swallow, imagining his tongue tracing the warmth just above the waistband of Cas' pants. When Cas dropped his arms suddenly, the shirt fell back into place, making Dean blink several times to return to reality.

“Lovesick much?” Sam laughed. Dean blushed furiously, shooting a warning glare at Sam. “Nope, that's not gonna work on me. I have been waiting for you two to figure this out for years, I'm gonna have my fun with you.”

Dean got up from the table. He considered really laying into Sam. But really, he was thrilled that the sadness was erased from Sam's features. Even for a little while. “Need help to the couch Cas? Or your room?” Dean put a gentle hand on Cas' arm.

“No. I think I'll be ok getting to the couch.” Cas rolled his eyes, somehow with his whole body. “But first I have to urinate. _Again._ ” He practically stamped off to the washroom.

The brothers just grinned at each other. “All right, I'll clean up.” Sam started gathering dirty dishes while Dean found plastic wrap for the leftover sandwiches. “Maybe convince Cas to at least put his dirty dishes in the sink.” Sam offered.

“Yeah, no shit.” Dean bungled the first strip of plastic, creating a tangled ball out of it. “Why does this stuff always do that? Like, really.” He managed to get the next strip actually covering the platter. “Sandwiches for supper, too.”

“Awesome,” Sam grinned.

They went about cleaning easily enough. Living together for so long they rarely got in each other's way. Before long the food was in the fridge, dishes washed and set out to dry, table wiped, Cas' crusts discarded. Dean waited until they were almost done before opening his mouth. “Sam.”

Sam looked up but Dean was busily wiping the counter. “What?” Concern rising in his belly.

“So. It doesn't bother you. Me and Cas I mean.” Dean's blush was back with full force. Sam was pretty sure he was going to wipe the finish right off the counter soon.

“No.”

Dean stopped and finally turned around. “No. Just no. That's it?”

“That's it.”

“But.....he's a _guy,_ ” he fretted.

Sam weighed his options before replying. “Why does that matter?” Sam insisted. “Really, why?” Dean was at a loss for words so Sam jumped in again. “Dean, I've seen the way you look at guys, I'm assuming you've never....” The question hung between them. Dean simply lowered his head and shook it. Sam nodded. “All right. Do you know I've been with guys?”

Dean's head snapped back up. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. Experimented a bit in college but didn't really go for it until after Jess died. There's only one that was...special...the rest were just one nighters.” This time Sam waited until Dean spoke.

“The rest? How many...” Dean didn't finish. He wasn't completely sure he wanted the answer.

“Only about six. So no, it doesn't bother me at all about you and Cas. You care about each other, that's been obvious for a long time. You're good for each other. Between the two of you you'll figure out the, uh, well the sex.” Sam did not think it was possible for Dean's blush to deepen, but it did.

Dean was speechless. Still trying to wrap his head around the idea that his brother actually had sex with guys. More than once. Willingly. How could he have missed this? “How come I didn't know?” he said out loud.

Sam considered. “I didn't bring any of them home, ever. Or to the motels. And I never specified gender when I said I got laid. You just assumed.”

Dean turned that over in his mind. “Huh. Yeah. Ok. Yeah.” He blew out a gust of air. “What, um, what did, uh, what-, uhhh, s-se-, how d-, fuck.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as he curled his shoulders inward and stared at the floor.

“Google.”

Dean sort of looked up, got to about Sam's chest. “What?”

Sam kept his voice even and free of judgement. “Google it. Tons of information, all online. And buy some lube if you don't have any already.”

Lube. Oh god. That would mean going somewhere and actually picking it up off the shelf and paying for it. With other people around. Where they could see him. Holding lube. Dean stared at the floor like a hole was going to open up any second and rescue him from the single most uncomfortable conversation with his brother in the history of ever.

Sam watched his brother squirm for a few minutes. For all Dean's bravado he really seemed repressed about sex. “You know what? I'm going out later. I'll buy a bunch of different kinds and you can try them. I need some anyway. Once you know which one you like, you can always order it online and have it delivered. Would that be easier?”

What would be easier is if this conversation never happened. If he could roll back time and not have started any of this. If he was the one telling his little brother what to do. If the floor would just agree already and swallow him up, please and thank you. That would be easier. But...at least it meant he wouldn't have to go to the store. _For lube,_ his mind whispered. “Uh, yeah that would be easier, thanks,” he mumbled. “I should check on Cas,” Dean said a little louder, searching for a reason to end this conversation. Forever.

“Yeah, haven't heard him for a bit.” Both brothers left the kitchen to wander over to the common area. There was Cas, sprawled out on his stomach on a pile of pillows. It looked like he pretty much fell forward, snuggled into the pillows, and fell asleep. Dean stood and stared for a moment, enraptured by how peaceful he looked while sleeping. He felt Sam's hand on his shoulder. Beside him his brother was grinning away. “You make him happy.”

That simple statement resonated inside Dean. He realized it was true, Cas was usually perked up when he was around. It took a long time for him to see it, but once he did it was all he saw. He loved the way Cas looked at him as if he was the angel, or the way he would lean into him when he clasped Cas' shoulder. It was like having his own personal ball of sunshine. He stored that thought deep inside, where nobody else could get it, resolving to look at it the next time he felt his world was all dark. Something else drew his attention though. On the coffee table was a pile of three or four crusts. “What the fuck?” Dean left his brother's sort-of embrace to investigate.

“What?” Sam tensed.

Dean picked up a crust and showed it to Sam. “Seriously? When did he take these?” Cas began to stir in slow, languid movements. “Cas, what the hell man?” Before Cas could answer, Dean saw the bulge in Cas' robe pocket. “You have got to be kidding me.” He reached down and pulled out another sandwich triangle. “Really Cas? Really?” Dean could not keep the amusement out of his voice. Sam was losing a fight to keep his laughter to himself.

“I was hungry. I only took a few extras at lunch. They are delicious.” Cas reached for, and took, the sandwich in Dean's hand. Cas' bit into it with a soft moan. “You make very good sandwiches Dean,” he said around the mouthful. Cas continued to chew contentedly, listening to his two favourite people laugh.

Dean gave up. If Cas said he was hungry, then he was hungry. It didn't look like there was going to be a repeat performance of breakfast, and he was there to help if there was. Cas would learn the capacity of his stomach on his own. Once Dean got a bit more control over his laughing he went to the kitchen. Sam's giggles trailed after him as he retrieved the sandwich platter, several water bottles, and some beer. “Hey Sammy, grab a garbage can,” he ordered from the kitchen.

Dean brought all the stuff back to the couch in time to see Sam holding the garbage with a questioning look on his face. Rather than answer it, he turned to Cas. “Dude, put your crusts in the garbage.” Sam clued in an placed it within reach of Cas' lazy arm. Cas dropped the one he was holding into the can, but left the rest where they were. Sighing like he was the most put-upon man in existence, Dean cleaned up the rest of Cas' mess. _Goddamn crumbs everywhere,_ he thought, only sort of grumpily.

Cas had perked up when he saw the tray, sitting himself up for easier access to it. He gratefully accepted a water bottle while Dean and Sam each had a beer. Halfway done the water and he was reaching for another sandwich. “Haven't eaten in a while,” was his only comment before biting down. Dean watched in awe at how marvelous Cas looked in the nest of pillows he managed to create. Cas' hair was mussed from sleep, his pyjamas slightly wrinkly under his open robe...and he was wearing another pair of Dean's socks. Dean wanted to gather him up in his arms and hold him forever. Instead he sat next to Cas and put an arm around him.

The three spent the remainder of the afternoon in a cocoon of their own making. Sam and Dean let Cas choose whatever he wanted on Netflix. Dean allowed Cas to lean on him, even almost cuddle. Dean was nervous at first but after a while it felt natural. Nobody got off the couch except for a new drink or to recycle what they had already had to drink. Conversation was minimal and frivolous. With every passing hour Cas got better. His body digested the food, his colour and energy came back. Dean found that for a brief moment he'd forgotten about the upcoming hunt – or retrieval really, as it was Cas' grace they were after – and felt a pang of sadness for having to leave Cas to do it. 

Dean hadn't been aware that he'd dozed off until Sam gave him a little shake. “I'm going out now but I guarantee I won't be back before midnight, 'k?” He said quietly.

“Guarantee?” Dean rubbed his face. He looked Sam over and saw a new shirt and freshly done hair. 'Out', yeah he knew what Sam meant.

Sam flicked a glance at Cas, who was engrossed in his show, and back at Dean with a raised eyebrow. Dean blushed and nodded. “Thanks Sammy.”

“We should leave tomorrow if Cas is feeling well enough to be left on his own.” Worry furrowed Sam's brow.

“You ok with that Cas?” Dean nudged the warm, cozy, adorable man nestled in the crook of his arm.

“I will be fine, other than missing you.” Cas pressed into Dean slightly.

“Cool, hey uh, Sammy, are you...um...still going to the store?” Hope and fear were an odd combination in his mouth as he spoke.

Sam smiled broadly. “Yeah, it's my first stop. See you after midnight.” With that, Sam left for his evening's adventures.

Dean waited a few minutes in case Sam forgot something. Pulling out his phone he checked the time, he considered setting an alarm. Maybe. Don't want Sam getting an eyeful. Trying not to get too hopeful, he set an alarm for 11:45 pm. Just in case.

“What time is it?” Cas asked casually as Dean dropped the phone on the table.

“Uh, eight.” Dean shifted restlessly. _Calm down,_ he thought. _Cas might still feel pretty awful, don't go getting your hopes up. Or anything else up._

“So, we have four hours?” Cas shifted against Dean so he could see him better. Not losing eye contact, Cas lowered his head so he could kiss Dean's chest through his shirt. “Alone?” His lips brushed the fabric of the shirt sending shivers down Dean's lower belly and into his groin.

Not trusting himself to talk, he only nodded. 

“Well, we should make good use of the time,” Cas's voice was husky with desire. Then he rolled his eyes. “But first I have to urinate _yet again!”_ With a huff he was off the couch and mumbling his way to the bathroom while Dean collapsed into a fit of laughter.


End file.
